To Wear You Down
by boldly
Summary: Kyouya was never one to be easily influenced by Tamaki's good looks. His narcissism only made tolerance that much more difficult. Why then, was he suddenly so attractive? Rated M for yaoi and language. You have been warned.
1. Let's do something fun!

**My second stab at an Ouran fic, this time with a little more substance. I tried my best to keep Kyouya IC, but it's difficult to make him desire something other than personal gain if he's completely himself. xx**

**Again, _I do not own Ouran._ Don't sue me. I'm merely using my imagination for the benefit and amusement of others.**

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Just in case anyone didn't know ..

**Okaasan** -- Mom

**Otoosan** -- Dad

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Tamaki was handsome. There was no doubt in anyone's mind about that. With his golden blond hair, always skillfully disheveled, and his bright blue eyes that never failed to reduce his adoring fangirls to quivering puddles, some would even go so far as to say he was beautiful.

Kyouya, however, was not one of those people.

He grimaced behind his laptop as he watched the scene play out before him one particularly boring afternoon. Tamaki was surrounded by girls, which came as no surprise. Their eyes, glistening with tears of devotion, were glued to him as he gave a very long-winded (and in Kyouya's opinion, very unnecessary) speech on the perks of commoner coffee.

"It's so simple! And cheap!" he exclaimed, holding up the jar for eveyone to see. He pointed to a slumped figure in a nearby chair. "Haruhi! Come demonstrate for us once more!"

Kyouya smirked to himself as he watched the poor girl slide lower in her seat.

"_Ha-ru-hiii_!" Tamaki whined. He turned on his "puppy dog" stare, and Haruhi sighed in resignation.

"Hai, senpai," she groaned, rising from her chair. Tamaki beamed and proceeded smother his daughter with attention as she reached for the pot of hot water.

Kyouya watched in mild amusement as Haruhi dropped a spoonful of coffee crystals into each teacup on the table, in turn adding the water and stirring. _Only Tamaki could be so absorbed by something so trivial_, he mused.

The rest of the afternoon passed without much excitement. The twins had caused a near-fainting spell with their "brotherly love" act, after Hikaru had carelessly knocked over a cup of hot tea and burned his fingers. Kaoru had taken his brother's hand gingerly in his own, bringing the scalded digits to his lips, murmuring, "Hikaru .. you must be more careful. I can't bear to see this beautiful skin marred by such carelessness!" He had then proceeded to kiss his brother's injured hand, much to the excitement of the surrounding female customers, as Hikaru's cheeks flushed crimson.

All in all, it had been a mildly productive day in Kyouya's opinion.

He sat in a high-backed, rather uncomfortable chair by the window, tapping away at his laptop long after he figured everyone else had gone home. It was only when a long, thin arm draped around his shoulder that he realized he wasn't alone.

"What are you still doing here, _Okaasan_? It's the weekend! Let's go do something fun!"

Kyouya glanced up into Tamaki's grinning face, then returned his attention to the numbers on the screen. "I'll trust you to have enough fun for the both of us, _Otoosan_. I'm rather busy at the moment."

Tamaki pouted almost pathetically. "But .. Kyouya! You're supposed to have fun on the weekend! Let's go to my house and watch one of those Western comedies." He smiled hopefully, and when Kyouya remained glued to his seat, he tugged at the boy's sleeve.

"Come on, Kyou. I'm going to keep pestering you until you agree."

Kyouya sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "If I come with you, and indulge your obsession with Western film, will you leave me alone?"

Tamaki nodded furiously, his eyes gleaming.

Kyouya replaced his glasses, turned off the computer and stood. "All right. But just one. _Just one_, Tamaki," he repeated as his friend looked as though he meant to argue. "I can't spend the entire evening watching something I'm pretty sure could lower my IQ."

Tamaki clapped his hands together delightedly. "Great! I'll have the cook make us snacks and we'll spend the whole night together!" He grabbed Kyouya's jacket sleeve and herded him towards the door, and as they exited the third music room protests of "_I said just one, Tamaki!_" echoed all up and down the empty hallway.

---

The bedroom of Suou Tamaki could only be described as overly extravagant. The room itself was huge, and in the very middle sat a monstrous bed covered in the finest silk sheets and a fluffy down comforter. The colors were red and gold, ("The colors of royalty!" Tamaki had exclaimed profoundly.) and there was so much of that dark crimson hue that Kyouya thought for a moment his eyes were bleeding. He blinked several times upon entering the bedchamber, and realizing that his eyes were indeed still intact and injury-free, resigned himself to the fact that he had emerged into a medieval nightmare.

"Did you grow tired of the blue?" Kyouya asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, referring to the hue that had at one time been the self-proclaimed king's favorite color. Tamaki, who was rifling through a stack of DVDs on his entertainment center, waved a hand dismissively.

"It didn't stand up to my status as king of the Host Club." He turned, motioning to the decor with an outstretched hand. "This more befits a king, don't you think?" Tamaki grinned like a fool and Kyouya shook his head, a smirk dancing across his lips.

_You're so dramatic, Tamaki._

After a few more moments spent studying the titles, his friend finally held one out for his approval. Kyouya tilted his head slightly to the right.

"'Road Trip'?" he asked skeptically, his eyes scanning the cover. _Why are those two people naked behind a map?_

Tamaki shrugged. "It's supposed to be good."

Kyouya handed the box back to his friend. "Whatever you like, Tamaki. Just keep in mind, I said I was only going to suffer through one."

"I know, I know." Tamaki set the DVD on top of the player and began loosening his tie. "I've already asked one of the maids to bring us some things to eat, so I'm going to take a shower while we wait. Is that okay with you?"

Tamaki was halfway through the unbuttoning of his shirt before Kyouya realized he hadn't answered.

"Oh. Yes. I don't mind." A light flush crept across his cheeks as he watched Tamaki stride across the lushly carpeted floor to the bathroom. _What is wrong with me?_ he asked himself, combing a hand through his dark hair. _I am_ not _one of those people so easily influenced by Tamaki's good looks._

Kyouya busied himself by taking out his laptop and attempting to finish analyzing the figures he'd been set on earlier. He barely noticed the soft knock at the bedroom door, which happened to be the maid bringing their snacks.

"Arigatou," he said politely, taking the tray of finger sandwiches from the flabbergasted woman, who was babbling things like "Oh, my pleasure," and "You're welcome" as he closed the door behind him. It was at that precise moment that Tamaki strolled out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a clean white towel wrapped around his narrow hips. He smiled as he saw the tray of food, which Kyouya nearly dropped at the sight of the nearly naked king.

His hair was still wet, little droplets of water falling onto his shoulders and rolling down his perfect white skin. Kyouya's eyes involuntarily followed their path down his chest, his stomach, and finally he forced himself to look away as they soaked into the fabric at his hips.

"Kyouya?" The sound of his name snapped him out of his trance, and he realized he was still holding the tray of food. Quickly setting it down on a dresser, he chose a sandwich from the selection and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Are you all right?" Tamaki asked worriedly, coming to stand behind him. Kyouya nodded, though the close proximity of his body seemed to only cloud his mind further.

"I just found myself suddenly hungry," he said matter-of-factly after he had finished chewing.

"I think you were mesmerized by the sight of my towel-clad body," Tamaki teased, as he was prone to do. Although this time, Kyouya feared there was too much truth to it.

"Don't be such an idiot, Tamaki," he said as he sat back on the bed. He rolled his eyes as his friend stuck out his bottom lip in the most pathetic pout he had ever seen. "Go get dressed."

As Tamaki started off in the direction of his closet, Kyouya began racking his brain for the source of his sudden attraction. He had known Tamaki for years, and had never once before seen him as anything but an arrogant nuisance, good-natured though he was.

Kyouya sighed, massaging his temples. There was no logic to his irrational thoughts, and everyone knew he was a logical, realistic man. What was he going to do?

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**Mm. What _will_ Kyouya do? Tell me what you think. XD**


	2. It was a kiss, you idiot

**Woo. Second chapter in the same day as the first? I'm on a roll. **

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It was true. On most days, Tamaki was exceedingly narcissistic. He worried over the state of his hair and whether his uniform clashed with his eyes. It was due mostly in part to Kyouya's endless patience that he allowed Tamaki's behavior to continue as long as it had.

Why then, Kyouya wondered to himself, did he look so delectable in mere jeans and a t-shirt?

His hair was still damp from the shower he'd taken moments ago, though the towel that had been clinging to his hips had been replaced by a pair of dark jeans that, unfortunately, molded them in a much more appealing way.

Kyouya groaned, leaning back against the headboard of the bed and covering his eyes with a forearm. He felt the mattress give way under him as he presumed Tamaki crawled in next to him and settled himself to watch the movie.

"Kyou?" he heard his friend ask innocently. Kyouya did not remove the arm from his eyes, but made a noncommital grunt from the back of his throat.

"Are you going to watch this with me or not?"

Kyouya cracked an eye open and glared at the television. It appeared that during his retreat into his own thoughts, Tamaki had put the DVD in the player and was now waiting impatiently for permission to start it.

"Yeah. Sure."

Tamaki pressed the play button and they sat in silence. As the movie progressed, he would giggle softly to himself while Kyouya, thoroughly uninterested, thought that it had to take a complete idiot to get _Austin_ mixed up with _Boston_. He lived in Japan, and even HE knew that _Boston_ was in Massachussetts.

At some point during the middle of the film Tamaki changed his position on the bed, going to lay on his stomach at the foot while Kyouya remained at the head. He found himself admiring the angles of his shoulders beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt, the lean, denim-clad strength of his thighs. He began to wonder, as he eyed a patch of soft-looking skin beneath Tamaki's left ear, what it would taste like ..

_His lips pressed to Tamaki's throat, tongue sneaking out to taste tentatively. His teeth gently marking the skin as his ---_

Kyouya shook his head savagely, trying to rid his mind of that forbidden image. _I must stop this_, he told himself. _Nothing good can come from it. Nothing at all._

He tried once more to focus on the film in front of him. But as it was just so damned uninteresting, he found his mind wandering yet again as his eyes traced the line of Tamaki's spine.

_Tamaki was spread out beneath him, a fine sheen of sweat coating his pale skin. His mouth was flushed and swollen from the force of Kyouya's kisses. He watched as Kyouya traced a line of fire down his stomach with his practiced tongue, inching ever closer to the core of his arousal. Kyouya then looked up as his slender fingers curled around his aching cock, smiled a secret smile that was meant only for himself as Tamaki sighed, his length being engulfed by the moist heat that was Kyouya's mouth ---_

"Shit!" Kyouya whispered harshly, hoping beyond all hope that Tamaki hadn't noticed something was wrong. He looked down, and a furious blush spread across his face as he saw the massive erection straining against his trousers. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, thinking of the best way to get to the bathroom without his problem being noticed.

Deciding that it was best to merely appear nonchalant, he rose from the bed and started towards the bathroom door.

"Are you okay, Kyou?" he heard Tamaki call after him as he hastened his steps minimally.

"Yes. Fine. Be back in a minute." Kyouya closed the door behind him and sank back against the frame, exhaling a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. It seemed much cooler in here, which felt wonderful on his flushed face. He strode calmly to the sink and turned the tap, intent on ridding himself of not only the heat in his cheeks, but the images which seemed to have burned themselves into his mind's eye.

It was wrong, what he felt. He knew that. And as for the worst part, these feelings had come out of nowhere. Completely out of the blue. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Lustful feelings for your best friend didn't just come out of nowhere --

A faint knock at the door brought Kyouya out of a trance for the second time that evening.

"Yes?" he answered hoarsely, unaware that his voice would be that gruff.

"Are you sure you're all right?" The sound of Tamaki's worried question sent a pang of guilt through his body. If only he knew what was causing him such distress ..

Kyouya replaced his glasses and stood upright, studying himself in the mirror. Thinking that he looked as good as he was ever going to, he reached for the doorknob and pulled it open.

"I'm fine," he answered with a plastic smile. Tamaki was indeed an idiot, but he hoped it would not take this time for him to finally begin catching on to things.

Instead of asking questions as he feared, Tamaki merely grinned back and motioned to the bed.

"Good. You should come finish this with me. It's getting to the good parts."

While Kyouya doubted there were any good parts in that movie, he glanced at the bed and thought it was quite possibly the last place he should be.

"I think .. I'm going to go home. I have lots of things I need to do tomorrow."

Kyouya attempted to sidestep Tamaki as he said this, but as he took one step forward and to the right a slender hand clasped him wrist, making him stop dead. As he turned, he saw such a look of disappointment in his friend's eyes that he almost, for a fleeting moment, felt his heart skip a beat.

"But .. _Okaasan_ .. You promised."

Tamaki's bottom lip protruded in a pout, and Kyouya had to stifle the urge to lean forward and take it into his mouth. He bit his own instead.

"I know," he said softly, and almost grimaced at the sound of his own voice. It wasn't like him at all. "But something .. has come up."

He tried yet again to free himself from Tamaki's grasp, but the boy only held on tighter. Kyouya was beginning to lose his resolve.

"Please? It doesn't have much longer. Then I promise you can go do whatever boring stuff you have to do." Tamaki smiled hopefully.

Kyouya eyed him warily. He was so close, he could smell the shampoo he used on his hair and the soap on his skin. He smelled like .. cherry blossoms. Cherry blossoms and .. _Tamaki_. There was no other way to describe it. The spice of his skin filled Kyouya's nostrils as he turned to face his friend, pulling the arm that he held closer to his body, in turn pulling Tamaki closer to him.

Kyouya's lips were inches from Tamaki's as he whispered, "Fine. I'll stay."

Before Tamaki had time to react, their mouths collided. Kyouya grasped the hand that had been holding his wrist with his own, his other coming up to rest against his jaw.

The kiss was clumsy, and awkward, and everything it _shouldn't_ have been, but _was_. Kyouya tasted Tamaki's lips experimentally with his tongue, the spice he had smelled on his skin dancing across his palate, making his head swim.

Tamaki rested a hand on his shoulder, parting his lips ever so slightly at the touch of Kyouya's tongue before pulling away. His blue eyes were wide and full of astonishment as he took a step back.

"What the hell was that?!" he exclaimed, eyeing Kyouya incredulously.

Kyouya smirked, a glimmer of his old self returning for the time being.

"It was a kiss, you idiot."

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**This could get interesting, methinks. Comments? I do love them so. **


	3. You can't deny it

**I apologize for not getting this up sooner. I attempted to finish it last night, but at 3am I experienced a lapse in my creativity. So, instead of getting the sleep I need so I can get up at 7am to go to work, I sat here tonight and finished it. You're welcome. I hope you enjoy it. **

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"It was a kiss, you idiot."

Tamaki blinked. Several seconds passed before his mouth was capable of movement, let alone the forming of words.

"I'm aware of that."

The smirk never left Kyouya's face as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Then why did you ask such a stupid question?"

The blond ran a hand through his hair, embarrassment etched on his face. A light pink flushed across his cheeks that Kyouya appreciated greatly.

"_Why_ did you kiss me?"

"Because I felt like it."

It was at this point that Tamaki realized he had regained his motor functions as well as the most basic control over his muscles, and he pointed an accusing finger at his friend.

"That is not an acceptable answer! I demand to know why you kissed me!"

"I've already given you my answer. Would you like me to spell it out for you?"

Tamaki started babbling. Something about dishonoring their friendship by executing such a vile act, or some such nonsense. Kyouya allowed him to rant for only a moment before he became exhausted by the situation.

"Shut up, Tamaki."

Having been in the middle of a long-winded explanation of why they should never act on impulse, he stopped dead.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Kyouya!" Tamaki's eyes glistened. There was a desperation in his expression that was most endearing, and nearly made the edge of Kyouya's lip quirk upward in a smile.

"You can't possibly think I'm going to let this pass so quickly! I mean, of course, I knew my appearance was irresistible to our female customers, but not you! True, my hair is like spun gold, my eyes like glittering sapphires in the moonlight .."

There it was. That typical Tamaki narcissism. Kyouya wondered if he ever really listened to himself, and heard how ridiculous he sounded out loud. He shook his head slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I still never thought I'd be the object of your affection!"

A pale, slender hand reached out and clutched the front of Tamaki's t-shirt, pulling him forward and pressing his back hard against the wall.

"_Shut up_, Tamaki."

Kyouya's mouth then descended on his as he leaned forward and placed a hand at the junction of Tamaki's neck and shoulder, his thumb at the base of his throat. He could feel the pulse beating rapidly beneath the thin layer of porcelain skin, and he unconsciously caressed the spot softly as his tongue traced a line across Tamaki's bottom lip.

Tamaki whimpered as Kyouya's mouth moved along his jaw, his teeth nibbling gently, his breath hot on his skin.

"Kyou, this isn't right. You know it isn't," he murmured, a hand coming to rest on his friend's shoulder as if to push him away. "There's nothing beneficial in a tryst of this -- AH!"

Kyouya had pulled aside the collar of the t-shirt, exposing the delicate rise of Tamaki's clavicle. The taste of him burst onto his tongue as his teeth marked the surface of that impeccable, perfect white skin.

"Tamaki," he purred against the boy's neck. He raised his head just slightly and pressed his mouth to his ear.

"You'll find, I'm sure, that this will go much more smoothly if you don't talk so much."

Kyouya's dark eyes came to rest on Tamaki's bright, slightly dilated ones. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against the blond's once more.

Tamaki attempted to press himself more firmly into the wall at his back, which seemed to only amuse Kyouya further. The hand that had settled itself at the base of Tamaki's throat began to slowly descend, fingers trailing lightly across thin fabric.

As that wayward appendage traced lines of fire down his chest, Kyouya let his tongue slide tentatively over Tamaki's pale bottom lip, seeking entrance. The blond admitted him slowly, shyly caressing Kyouya's tongue with his own.

Kyouya's fingers came to rest on the rise of a hip bone and Tamaki pulled away, shaking his head, his golden hair fanning out in all directions.

"Kyouya, no."

Kyouya's eyes glittered with heat. "No?"

"I don't want this. I'm quite sure you don't, either. You're merely under the spell of my exquisite good looks --"

Tamaki hissed as Kyouya's palm came in contact with the massive erection that was straining against the denim of his jeans. It was the second time in several minutes he had been silenced by an act he hadn't quite been expecting.

"It would seem," Kyouya mused with a smile, "that a certain part of your anatomy disagrees with that statement." He removed his hand, pressing his hips and an equally throbbing organ against the other boy's. Tamaki whimpered.

"You can deny it all you want, _Otoosan_," Kyouya crooned, grinding his hips just slightly. He nipped playfully at the soft skin on the side of his neck.

"But the fact remains that you want this just as badly as I do."

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**Mm. Am I drawing this out too much? Is it evil of me to make you wait for the next chapter? Perhaps I'm a sadist in that respect. The torture is almost as delicious as the rest of this story will be. **


	4. You're beautiful

**-rubs eyes- I've been working nonstop for several hours trying to get this chapter _just right_, so I hope you like it. To all those of you who left reviews, you're the reason I'm still writing this fic. This is for you. XD  
**

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Tamaki was _groaning_, unconsciously grinding his hips into those of the boy pressing him against the wall. A corner of his swollen lip was caught between his teeth as he tried desperately to still his undulating movements. 

Kyouya merely smirked to himself, his mouth curling upward almost to the point of a sneer.

His hands slid beneath the thin material of Tamaki's t-shirt, and he relished the feel of skin on skin. His stomach was flat, smooth, with just a hint of coarse hair right beneath his navel. Kyouya's fingers traveled slowly upward, over the delicate ridges of his ribs until he came in contact with two small, perfectly round, _hard_ nipples.

He flicked the pads of his thumbs over them softly, and Tamaki barely suppressed an anguished moan.

"Stop that," he hissed, but the erotic sounds of his voice belittled the command.

"Mm. I don't think you really want me to." Kyouya flicked his thumbs again, and this time he didn't bother attempting to silence the sigh of pleasure that slipped past his lips.

Kyouya was very pleased. He thought to himself that he was truly going to enjoy ripping sounds of ecstasy from that luscious throat.

"Raise your arms," he all but growled, clenching the fabric tightly in his fists. Tamaki obliged him slowly, as though the command portion of his brain had temporarily shut down. Kyouya tugged the shirt over his head impatiently, wanting to see as much of that creamy skin as he possibly could, as quickly as he could. Tossing the garment aside, he took a moment to fully appreciate the beauty before him.

Tamaki's eyes were half closed and partially veiled by the golden silk strands of his hair. His lip was caught between his teeth again, and looked as though it was under a fair bit of stress. A bright pink flush still painted his cheeks, which made him appear almost boyish.

Kyouya allowed his eyes to sink further as they took in the sight of his slender shoulders, all sharp edges and subtle strength. He could just barely make out the indentions his teeth had made on the flawless skin of the other boy's clavicle. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to that very spot as he took Tamaki's hands in his.

"Take off my shirt," he whispered, his lips barely moving against Tamaki's shoulder as he settled his hands on the first button. He glanced upward, his dark eyes taking in the questioning look on his friend's flushed face. Their eyes were trained on one another as Tamaki's fingers worked slowly, undoing the buttons one by one until the shirt lay open. With slightly shaking hands the blond pushed the fabric off his shoulders, down his arms until it fell soundlessly to the floor.

Kyouya then reached out, fingers hooking through a belt loop on Tamaki's trousers, and pulled him away from the wall, anxious to feel the touch of his lips once more. "Kiss me," he growled, and for once Tamaki complied instantly, crushing his mouth against Kyouya's so hard their teeth clicked.

His mind reeled. The taste of his tongue was almost too much, all sweetness and spice and so utterly _Tamaki_. All at once his hands were tangled in those perfect blond strands, and he was feeding from those lips as though it would save his life.

Kyouya took a tentative step backward, pulling Tamaki with him, never releasing his mouth for fear he might never capture it again. He turned them around, searching blindly for the edge of the bed and finding it mercifully as Tamaki's knees buckled and Kyouya collapsed on top of him.

The impact of their bodies hitting the mattress broke their embrace, and as Kyouya gazed down into that innocent face he was briefly reminded of a similar situation he had once found himself in, only with a completely different host member who was decidedly more feminine than Tamaki. He forced the thought from his mind as he pressed his lips to the hollow of Tamaki's throat, delighting in the small whimper that simple action awarded him.

As his mouth moved slowly lower, he was aware of fingers curling themselves in his dark hair and tugging softly. He smiled against the cover of Tamaki's heated skin and bit down gently on the peak of a hardened nipple.

Tamaki's back arched beautifully. "Kyouya .."

He shivered. His name had never sounded so erotic as it had just then, dripping from Tamaki's mouth like warm honey. Kyouya flicked his tongue against the hardened peak, raising his eyes to watch as the blond bit down on his lip so hard he thought it must be bleeding by now. The hands in his hair tightened their grip and Kyouya paused momentarily to remove his glasses, thinking it would not be so pleasant if they somehow wound up broken or otherwise rendered useless during their upcoming .. _experience_.

He continued his agonizingly slow descent, pausing for a moment to pay homage to the previously neglected nipple before leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down his ribs. Kyouya traced a circle with his tongue around Tamaki's navel, loving the groan he so shamelessly emitted, and the way he squirmed when his hand came to rest at the front of his trousers.

Kyouya flipped the button open effortlessly, sliding the zipper down with a low hiss that sounded too loud in the quiet of the room. Somewhere in the back of mind he registered that the film had stopped playing and the television screen was blank, the player having turned itself off at the end of the DVD. For the moment, however, his attention was drawn to the vision in front of him. He leaned down, letting his tongue slide sensuously over the skin just above the waistband of Tamaki's boxers, his fingers curling into the fabric.

"Lift your hips," he all but groaned, a shiver passing through him as he looked up and saw that Tamaki was watching him intently, his breath coming in short gasps through parted lips. Kyouya slowly removed slacks and boxers at the same time, freeing the massive erection that he alone had caused.

He regarded it thoughtfully for a moment before taking it into his right hand, stroking softly up and down. Tamaki's head fell back against the mattress as an utterly primal groan of pleasure escaped his throat, which went straight to Kyouya's own aching cock, making it that much harder. Kyouya leaned down, sliding his tongue across the head before taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

"Oh, _God_, Kyouya," came Tamaki's agonized cry. His hips bucked involuntarily, forcing more of his cock into Kyouya's mouth until he nudged the back of his throat. Kyouya placed a steadying hand on his stomach, sliding his tongue up the underside of his shaft before removing his length entirely from the moist heat. Tamaki groaned almost helplessly as he swirled his tongue over the head while his other hand moved up to cup him almost possessively.

Kyouya found a slow, almost torturing rhythm, alternating long swipes of his tongue down the underside of Tamaki's cock with brief, mind-bending suckles. He felt the boy tense more than once, and not wanting this to end quite yet, regretfully pulled away and sat back on his heels. His own arousal was now painfully hard, and he stroked himself absently through his trousers as he gazed down at the lax form of his friend.

Tamaki was visibly panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly as a drop of sweat rolled down the side of his neck. To Kyouya, he had never appeared more beautiful as he did just then.

Turning his head to the left, he spotted a bottle of lotion on a bedside table. A smile quirked the edge of his mouth. _Leave it to Tamaki to be overly concerned with the appearance of his skin._

Kyouya seized the bottle, dispensing what he thought to be a generous amount onto his fingers and coating them thickly. He then turned back to Tamaki, kneeling between his thighs and spreading them slightly. He watched the blond's face for any sign of discomfort as he slowly, carefully, slid one finger into his entrance. He felt his muscles tense around the digit and stopped, not wanting to cause him any undue pain. When he received no word to the contrary, he pulled out and added a second finger, pushing in gently. Tamaki squirmed when he scissored his fingers, and, taking that as a sign of approval, thrust in just a little deeper.

He hit _something_ and Tamaki nearly screamed, covering his mouth with his hand out of embarrassment at the outburst.

"Don't do that," Kyouya murmured, reaching out with his free hand to bring Tamaki's away from his face. "I want to hear you scream."

He pushed his fingers in again, hitting the same spot and nearly coming at the sound of Tamaki's anguished groan and the sight of his body drawn tight against the silk sheets.

Unable to contain himself any longer, he removed his fingers and stood, although shakily, and removed his slacks. He then kneeled back on the bed, reaching for Tamaki and pulling him into a sitting position. Kyouya wrapped his arms around the blond's lithe frame, crushing their mouths together before whispering seductively, "Turn around."

Tamaki eyed him warily. "Why?"

"Because I said so, that's why." The glimmer in his dark eyes was almost a warning, but not quite.

While Tamaki took his time, Kyouya dispensed a bit more lotion into his palm and coated his aching cock. He then reached for Tamaki's hips, pulling him back until they were so close, Kyouya's lips were inches away from his shoulder, and his length was pressing into the cleft of his backside. He took a moment to admire the contours of Tamaki's back, pondering briefly whether it was possible for something to be so aesthetically pleasing before grasping his hips and pressing into his entrance.

Tamaki tensed and Kyouya hesitated, until the blond rested his head against his shoulder and whispered softly, "Keep going."

Kyouya bit his lip and thrust inward slowly, inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt and Tamaki's back was pressed firmly against his chest. For a moment neither of them moved, Kyouya relishing the tight heat and Tamaki relaxing himself around the organ invading his most intimate orifice. Kyouya then reached around their bodies and took Tamaki's length in his fist, slowly enveloping him in a slick, warm cocoon. As he began stroking him, Tamaki raised his hips just slightly before lowering them, keeping the time with Kyouya's lazy pumping of his cock.

As he became more accustomed to Kyouya's length inside him, he quickened the pace, grinding hard against him as his arousal was in turn pumped faster. Kyouya could feel the familiar heat building rapidly in the pit of his stomach, and as he worked almost furiously to bring Tamaki's release, he buried his teeth in his shoulder to stifle a would-have-been loud cry of ecstasy as his orgasm washed over him. Tamaki's groan of mingled pain and pleasure was almost too much as he too found his release, coming hard on Kyouya's hand and the silk sheets in front of him. His face flushed crimson as he leaned back against the boy supporting him, panting heavily and desperately trying to catch his breath.

Kyouya's arms came around the blond's narrow waist, his face buried in the side of Tamaki's neck amidst the fall of golden silk. A ghost of a thought crossed his weary mind as slender fingers entwined with his own.

_You're beautiful ..  
_

* * *

**-waits patiently- Was it good for you? **_  
_


	5. Uncertainty

**I'm terribly sorry for the lack of an update recently. For some unknown reason, I found it very difficult to write this chapter. I didn't know where to begin, or where to end. So, this doesn't have much of an ending, and I'm hoping to go more in-depth in chapter 6. We'll see. Don't hate it too much.**

* * *

When Kyouya woke, it was to find the room plunged into complete darkness. His dark eyes slid open slowly as he rolled over onto his back, away from the warm body sleeping soundly next to him. For a moment he was disoriented as he gazed down upon his nude torso above the twisted sheet at his waist, and then his memory came flooding back to him in a tidal wave of realization.

_Their bodies moved as one, neither knowing where one began and the other ended. Kyouya's aching arousal was thrusting in and out of Tamaki's most intimate orifice as the blond's hips rose and fell, keeping time with Kyouya's lazy pumping of his cock. Tamaki leaned back, his hair like spun silk on Kyouya's skin as a seductive growl of pleasure escaped his mouth and Kyouya's teeth buried themselves in his shoulder ---_

Kyouya covered his face with his hands. So it _had_ happened. It hadn't been merely a vivid dream that ended as he woke in the safety of his own bed ...

He sat up slowly, pulling the sheet a bit tighter around his midsection, regarding the sleeping form of his friend with guarded eyes.

A single shaft of moonlight seeped in through a crack in those heavy crimson curtains, illuminating Tamaki's pale hair fanned out on the pillow. His eyelashes fluttered softly against his cheeks. He was dreaming.

Kyouya found himself wondering briefly what Suou Tamaki dreamed about; whether they were pleasant or nightmarish, in color or black and white like his own seemed to be more often than not. He sighed almost wistfully, turning away from Tamaki's delicate features and pondered his next plan of action.

He couldn't remember what they had said to one another before they'd fallen asleep. Hell, Kyouya didn't even remember _falling_ asleep. The only thing that was still fresh in his mind was the way Tamaki's fingers had felt laced with his own, and a fleeting thought of just how beautiful the idiot king was.

He grimaced in the dark, his expression turning cold. It was not his nature to think that way -- about anyone. Not even Haruhi, whom had somehow managed to catch his attention during last year's Ouran Festival. Inevitably, he was aware that his father was planning on his youngest son marrying the commoner girl, whether it was his own choice or not. Kyouya was all too familiar with the idea of his future being planned out for him, having only recently decided that he was going to exceed his father's expectations of him and succeed the Ootori monopoly.

He paused for a moment to wonder what it would be like to be married to Haruhi. Marriages of convenience were common in his family, as they were in most wealthy societies. As sure as he was of how much it would please his father, Kyouya had no intention of doing that. For one thing, he chalked his waning affection for the girl up to her standing up for him to his father last year by saying how much the Host Club was revered and loved. There could be no love there, he was sure of it. And he wasn't too keen on finding out if he was wrong.

_What is love, anyway?_ Kyouya wondered to himself. Merely something that got in the way of much more important things. Nothing good ever came from loving someone, which was precisely the reason why he never allowed himself to become attached to anyone, or anything save his laptop. Machines weren't codependent, for one thing. And there could be nothing worse than a clingy, whiny, emotional wreck breathing down Kyouya's neck for the rest of his life. No, he figured he could do just fine on his own, thank you.

Why, then, had he remained friends with Tamaki for so long? If anyone were a clingy, whiny emotional wreck, it was he. He was constantly on the verge of tears, only to turn around five seconds later and suffocate someone with a bear hug. He was indeed unstable, but there was something about him ..

Kyouya sighed audibly, gazing down once again at his friend. It had been Tamaki that had told him he should not give up on himself so easily, that he should not settle for meeting the expectations of a third son. It had been he who started the Host Club, which brought everyone out of their respective shells, especially the twins. A whole new world had opened at the forming of the group, and so many people were better off for it.

They were friends, yes. Of that he was certain. Ootori Kyouya did not have many, as he thought they were irrelevant, but anything he ever needed could be found in Tamaki. The very realization of that thought struck him hard in the chest, causing his heart to constrict and his breath to hitch. Never before in his life had he come to terms with such a thought, and it was a terribly unfamiliar feeling, not altogether pleasant.

Kyouya raked a hand through his dark hair, his unblinking stare penetrating the blanket of darkness that enveloped the room. Tamaki stirred in his sleep, burrowing a bit deeper in his pillow and for a moment Kyouya was afraid he might wake. Instead, he began snoring softly and a small smile quirked the edge of Kyouya's lip as he regarded him thoughtfully.

The smile faded however, when he began wondering what would happen the next morning. Having acted on impulse for the first time in his life, he was unaware of what the consequences would be. The repercussions couldn't be that bad, seeing as Tamaki hadn't ordered Kyouya from the property straight away, or revoked his friendship. Could it be that .. there may be something more to their actions? That perhaps it wasn't merely an irrational bout of lust on Kyouya's part?

Kyouya lay back down, folding his arms behind his head as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He could never openly hope for such a thing ..

But would it be so terrible if he did?

* * *

**Yeah. Gomen. I didn't know what to do .. and somehow an agonizing Kyouya seemed the right way to go. **


	6. Wait

**Hm. All right. It's been four days since I posted the fifth chapter. I feel rather guilty for neglecting it even for that long, because I feel obligated to finish this story. Even this far along I haven't figured out what's going to happen. Fortunately, this chapter wasn't too difficult to write so it came out pretty smoothly. Hopefully this means the writing process will continue to go smoothly and I can figure out an ending for our lovely boys. **

**Anyway. I hope you enjoy this. Thank you to everyone who reviewed or commented on the last chapter. You are my saviors. **

* * *

When Kyouya woke for the second time, he found he was alone in that monstrous bed and the sound of running water could be heard faintly from behind the closed bathroom door. He turned over onto his side, eyeing the space Tamaki's body had recently occupied. The smell of him was everywhere -- on the sheets, the pillows .. even on Kyouya's own skin. He wondered vaguely how long it would take for that particular aroma to fade.

His eyes were trained on the bathroom door as he heard the shower being turned off. He contemplated reaching for his trousers in a vain attempt at modesty, but reconsidered that thought once he realized that they may be a bit past that mark for it to matter. Instead, he sat up with the sheet wrapped firmly about his hips and tried his best to look nonchalant as Tamaki emerged from the shower, a cloud of steam following close behind.

Kyouya's heart momentarily jumped into his throat at the sight of the blond in yet another pair of form-fitting jeans. His chest was bare, and Kyouya found his eyes following the same path as the previous night as droplets of water slid down his creamy skin. He gulped almost audibly.

_Shit._

Tamaki smiled mechanically, completely oblivious to his friend's inner turmoil. Feigning cool collectiveness and praying to whatever higher power there may be, Kyouya smiled back.

"_Ohayo_," he said simply. _Could it really be this easy?_

"Morning," Tamaki replied. The smile stayed plastered to his face as he crossed the short distance from the bathroom to his closet, where he busied himelf for several minutes looking for a shirt. Kyouya felt his stomach fall. Although Tamaki never had a problem keeping a smile on his face for no apparent reason, this was one time where he was sure there was an explanation for its continued presence. The problem was getting the stubborn blond to talk about it, even though they both knew the situation at hand.

Kyouya sat there, in the middle of the bed, clad in nothing save for the slippery bedclothes regarding his friend with watchful eyes as he pulled a blue button-down from a hanger and shrugged it on. Neither of them spoke, and as Tamaki's slender fingers worked their way through the buttons, Kyouya realized he had to say something. He had to, or the feeling of impending doom would suffocate him for sure.

"Tamaki .." he began softly. He didn't quite know where to start. Should he apologize? It would be completely unlike him, but then again, the whole of last night's interlude could be solely blamed on Kyouya not being Kyouya. And yet, as he recalled the urgency in Tamaki's kisses once he finally realized the Shadow King wasn't going to relent, he wondered if there was anything to apologize for. He could have stopped him any time he wished. _Although,_ Kyouya wondered to himself,_ would I have let him go if he'd wanted to?_

Tamaki wasn't looking at him. His blue eyes were glued to a spot on the wall just above his head, which meant there was definitely something going on in that tricky mind of his.

"Tamaki, I --"

"I'm going to see if the cook has already finished serving breakfast. I'm afraid we've missed it, sleeping so late." Tamaki turned his back to Kyouya, making an elaborate show of closing the closet doors and striding over to his dresser to run a brush through his drying hair. Kyouya blinked. Was he being blatantly ignored?

"Wait," he said, watching as Tamaki set the brush down and, deliberately avoiding his gaze, made his way to the bedroom door. "I need to --"

"You're welcome to stay and eat, of course. You know how much my father enjoys having you around." Tamaki's hand was on the door handle, about to pull the door open and thus walk out on what could quite possibly be the most relevant conversation Kyouya ever hoped to have. He needed to know that Tamaki didn't hate him, that actions did indeed speak louder than words and therefore meant that there was more between them than mere friendship --

"_Tamaki_!"

Perhaps it was the urgency in his voice, or the fact that a bit of compassion still lurked beneath the surface. The blond turned his head over his shoulder, barely risking a glance behind him. Kyouya was sitting straight up in the bed, wishing now more than ever that he had opted to put his pants on before Tamaki had come out of the shower. His dark eyes took in the cold, calculating look on his friend's face as his mouth worked to form words, but to no avail. He merely sat there stupidly, feeling more naked than he had ever felt in his life under that icy glare.

Tamaki turned away, facing the corridor just outside the room. "You should dress quickly. Take a shower if you need to. I'm not quite sure what the maids would think if they found you in this state." Without another word, he strode out, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Kyouya felt as though his chest had just imploded. The pressure was almost too much. How could he have been so careless, so impulsive? To think that Tamaki could be so cold was almost unfathomable. Apparently, all it took was his best friend forcefully taking advantage of him to do the trick.

_No_, he thought, shaking his head slowly. He disentangled himself from the sheet and made his way toward the bathroom, intent on the aforementioned shower. Tamaki couldn't just reverse his personality that easily. He was acting as Kyouya would under normal circumstances; distant, collected, calm, even frigid. But the thought of him being anything other than his bright, if sometimes overly obnoxious, self was unacceptable.

Kyouya turned the water as hot as he could stand, then stepped into the spray. His mind was racing as he fought desperately to find a way to return things to normal, but somewhere deep in the back of his mind he knew there was no going back. He could either do his best to remedy the situation, or come to face the idea that he had lost the one person he had truly come to care about in the world.

He wasn't quite ready to accept that as fact just yet.

* * *

**Before you say it, I'm aware that Kyouya was very OOC in this chapter. I feel it's good for him to walk around in someone else's shoes for a while. He can't always be calm and collected. Let him sweat a little. It's good for him. Good for my writing skills, too. . As always, reviews are well received. Thank you to all that have added this story to your Alert list. Or your Favorites list. It makes me feel special. **


	7. She notices everything

**So .. I've been writing this at work over the past couple of days. I hadn't realized just how long it was until I typed it up tonight. Since I've been in a rather dark mood lately, Kyouya has regained a bit of his former self in this chapter. I should apologize to Haruhi for having her get caught in the middle.**

**Oh, just in case:**

**Doushite? -- **Why?

* * *

It had been a day and a half before Kyouya happened to catch a glimpse of Tamaki again. After his quick shower at the second Suou mansion Saturday morning, he'd let himself out without bothering to say goodbye. His pride was disgusted by how hurt he was, but at this point pride had almost nothing to do with anything. Although his exterior appeared as it normally did -- nonchalant, cool, detached -- his innards were slowly and torturously being torn apart. Metaphorically, of course, but the pain was as real as if he really were being eaten from the inside out.

Kyouya was ashamed of himself. Never before in his life had he felt this way, and it was so alien to him that at first he wasn't certain _what_ he was feeling. With a rather sardonic smile to himself he thought that over the past few days he'd experienced quite a few emotions that had never been imprinted on his being before. He almost laughed. How ironic that the third son of Ootori Yoshio, who had always been taught that emotions were troublesome and therefore irrelevant, would suddenly find himself in such a predicament.

He sighed as he stood just outside the doors of the third music room. Would he even bother showing?

_Of course he will, you idiot_, he chastised himself. _He's the fucking Host Club king. He wouldn't want to risk disappointing his admirers .._

Well. It was time to put on the performance of a lifetime. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. Though the room was empty just now, he couldn't help feeling that he was walking into a nest of pit vipers waiting impatiently to devour him whole.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Ah, my lovely princesses! I have been waiting to see your pretty smiles all day!" Tamaki flashed a dazzling smile of his own and his designations swooned.

"Tamaki-kun," breathed the nearest of them, a petite brunette with sparkling green eyes. "How did you become so dashing?!" The girls surrounding them held their clasped hands beneath their chins, anticipating his reply.

"Ah," Tamaki sighed dreamily. His eyes fluttered closed dramatically, a hand poised above his chest.

"I believe it was fate, my darlings. Otherwise, who would be sitting here waiting to shower such beautiful ladies with the attention they deserve?"

The girls squealed, sighs of "Tamaki-kun!" escaping their mouths in a resounding wave. Tamaki bowed gracefully, taking the green-eyed brunette into his arms. "Now, my princess," he murmured, his blue eyes wide with adoration.

"How may I serve you today?"

Kyouya watched this act play out before him with a look of pure disgust painted across his face, making his features appear even more intimidating than usual. He snorted loudly and returned to the figures he had been writing in his notebook, but found they were lost on him. His mind had been scattered all throughout the day and seeing Tamaki lacking the slightest bit of integrity merely for the appeasement of those leeches in disguise made nothing easier.

He watched as Tamaki fawned over the lot of them, making a blatant show of affection for each of them as he always did. Kyouya wondered how they could believe him -- but perhaps it was the fact that he was so terrificly overdramatic that made it seem legitimate. Perhaps they thought that nothing so over the top could possibly be a lie.

_If only they knew .._

Not once since the club opened that afternoon had Tamaki made eye contact. Or even acknowledged Kyouya's presence, for that matter. Rather, he focused his full attention on his customers, not even noticing when Hikaru and Kaoru openly asked Haruhi to go on a date with them the following Saturday.

"A .. date? _Doushite_?" Her brown eyes were narrowed as she regarded them warily.

"Oh, no specific reason," they replied in unison -- something they were very practiced at.

"We just want to spend some time with you outside of the Host Club," Kaoru elaborated, one of those trademark evil grins stretching across his mouth.

"But," Haruhi started, her gaze steadily moving between the two. "You see me all day in class! Isn't that enough?"

Kyouya shook his head as the twins launched into a one-sided debate on why they could never possibly spend too much time together.

Tamaki was still wholly oblivious to the goings-on around him, which made Kyouya realize that the situation was far worse than he's originally believed it to be. Nothing short of the apocalypse could keep him from his precious "daughter" under normal circumstances.

Kyouya pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and gave an aggravated sigh.

_Shit._

"Kyouya-senpai," said a soft voice off to his right. A slightly haggard-looking Haruhi had somehow managed to break away from the evil twins. "Is everything all right?"

"Of course," came his terse reply as he jotted some numbers down into his notebook and snapped it shut. He turned his scowl into an amused smile. "Why?"

"It's just that something seems different between you and Tamaki-senpai," she said thoughtfully, the tip of her index finger tapping lightly against her chin. "Did you two have a fight?"

_Damn her_, Kyouya thought bitterly. _Damn her and those overly observant eyes of hers straight to hell._

"Nothing like that," he said in what he hoped passed for an uninterested tone. He left it at that, assuming that if he said nothing more the girl would take a hint and mind her own business.

She didn't.

"Well .. then what happened?" The question in her eyes was something Kyouya found most irritating.

"We're perfectly capable of handling our own disputes, Haruhi," he said coldly, flipping his notebook back open and rifling through a few pages.

"Forgive me if I don't think this is any of your concern."

Haruhi stared at him for a few moments, confusion and hurt etched into her features before she began to turn away. "I'm sorry, senpai," she said quietly over her shoulder. "I was just trying to help."

Kyouya ignored her.

_Better that she thinks I'm more callous than usual, rather than finding out what an emotional idiot I've become_, he thought to himself as he watched her walk away. The twins took that as their cue to continue begging her to come out with them.

After the Host Club's last customer passed through the doors at the end of the afternoon, everyone else seemed quick to leave themselves. The twins were the first to hit the door, saying they were needed at home promptly at six-thirty to have dinner with one of their mother's top buyers. Kyouya figured it could have been the truth, but seeing as the devious duo were never ones to hurry home for anything of that sort, he knew they were lying outright.

Honey and Mori were the next to go, Honey exclaiming that the chef had been busy all morning concocting a new, sugar-filled dessert that he needed to sample _immediately_. Knowing full well that coming between the senior and his desserts meant signing one's own death warrant, Kyouya let him go without hesitation. Mori merely followed his bouncing cousin silently out the door.

That left himself, Haruhi and a still blissfully oblivious Tamaki. Haruhi looked from one to the other, as if expecting to suddenly find out why the two had been acting so strangely. While Tamaki busied himself with clearing a table of teacups and saucers, Kyouya rose from his seat and began doing the same.

"You don't have to stay, Haruhi," he said quietly, avoiding her searching gaze as he balanced two cups and a teapot precariously in one hand. "Tamaki and I will clean up."

At the mention of his name Tamaki stiffened, his spine a rigid line as he carried the china across the room to the adjoining storage closet.

Haruhi watched the blond as he disappeared behind the swinging door and turned to face Kyouya, her mouth a staight line across her face.

"I don't know what has happened between the two of you, senpai," she began, her voice low. "But whatever it is, I'm sure it can be remedied if you just talk to him. Tamaki-senpai never stays mad at anyone for too long."

Kyouya couldn't help smirking. Since when had their little pseudo-host become such an expert on the inner workings of the Host Club king? Surely she didn't think she knew more than Kyouya, who had known him for years now ..

"I'll keep that in mind,"he said, smiling politely. Feeling as though she had done her best, and quite possibly a little insulted, Haruhi passed into the corridor with the doors clicking softly shut behind her.

Tamaki still hadn't come out of the storage closet. Balancing the china in his arms, Kyouya made his way carefully across the marble floor in the direction the blond had disappeared. As he neared the door, an ache began to swell in his chest. He couldn't help feeling that one of them was going to come out bruised in more ways than one.

* * *

**Longest .. chapter ..evar? Except for the one with teh secks, because it just wouldn't stop. This one wouldn't either, but it had to because the confrontation between Kyouya and Tamaki is going to take place in chapter 8. I'd begin writing it now, but seeing as it's 5:24am and I have yet to sleep, I believe it can wait until tomorrow. **

**So. Do you hate me yet? **


	8. Confrontation

**This chapter has been on my mind since I posted the previous one last night. I don't have much of an introduction for it, seeing as it speaks for itself. Just .. don't hate it too much. I'm only human, after all.**

& in case we have some slow students out there ..

**Nani?** -- What?

* * *

He pushed the door open slowly, part of him expecting Tamaki to be standing just on the other side waiting to do something completely unmentionable. As he never leaned toward violent tendencies this was a highly improbable situation, but Kyouya had learned very early on that one could never be too careful.

The blond stood with his back to the door, hand-washing the delicate china with a grace only Tamaki could boast. Kyouya watched him for a few moments, making sure the other boy was aware of his presence before he spoke.

"How long were you planning on acting like a child, Tamaki?"

He stiffened, pausing briefly in the act of rinsing a teacup before setting it carefully on the counter. He didn't answer.

Kyouya tried again.

"This has gone on long enough. We are going to talk about this. Or do you lack the maturity to do so in a civilized manner?"

Tamaki whirled around, dropping a piece of china with a resounding crash and catching Kyouya across the mouth with an open-palmed slap that carried with it all the confusion and anger he'd held inside for the past two days.

Kyouya's head snapped awkwardly to the side, the action sending his glasses flying. As the stinging sensation subsided, he licked his lip and tasted blood. In one quick, fluid movement he surged forward and grabbed Tamaki by the lapels of his uniform jacket, pinning him to the cabinet at his left.

"You're not going to seduce me again, are you Kyouya?" Tamaki sneered. The edge of his lip curled up nastily. "Because if you are, you'll have to fight for it." He attempted to push the dark-haired boy away from him but Kyouya held firm, instead wedging his knee between Tamaki's thighs and holding his hips in place as he pressed his shoulders harder into the wood at his back.

"I'm not trying to seduce you, you fucking idiot." The harshness of his voice was surprising, as he hadn't meant it to come out that way. But being consequently ignored and then slapped across the face could make even the most level-headed of people crack just a little.

Their faces were inches apart, Kyouya's dark eyes reflecting Tamaki's light blue ones. The blond's features held such hatred and disgust in them that for a moment Kyouya almost let him go. But there was no way, after coming this far and having bled for it, he was going to just _let it go._

"I just want to talk."

Tamaki stared, unblinking, for an interminable amount of time before he spoke. His lips quivered as he drew in a shaking breath. "You were supposed to be my friend."

Kyouya regarded him stupidly. "I am your friend."

"Friends don't do .. _that_," he shot back, his anger flaring. There were sparks in his eyes as he pushed forward again, this time succeeding in freeing himself from that binding hold. Kyouya stepped back, resting a hip on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What did you mean by it?"

It was a loaded question if Kyouya ever heard one. On one side, he could tell a bold-faced lie and say that he'd merely been acting on impulse, which was in way a sort of half-truth as the amorous feelings that had claimed his body had come about so suddenly they'd left his mind spinning. As a practiced debater he had no doubt that he could convince Tamaki that there had been no underlying reason for his actions other than sheer lust. That seemed the less complicated way to go.

And yet, as he stood facing his friend -- blood staining his bottom lip, dark hair hanging in his eyes and partially obscuring his already blurry vision -- he knew that if he didn't own up to his actions truthfully he could never forgive himself.

The fact remained that at some point over the past few years, Kyouya had come to care deeply for the idiot king. If asked outright he would most likely openly deny it, but his growing attachment could not be ignored. He _needed_ him. He was the only person who cared enough to even bother with him on a daily basis, whereas everyone else seemed content to leave him to his own devices. Yes, his demeanor could, most times, come off as cold and distant, but always having been one to rely only on himself and no others, he hadn't bothered attempting to make friends. When Tamaki had moved to Japan from France, Ootori Yoshio had told his son that it would be in his best interest to befriend the boy, and even though he hadn't wanted anything to do with him at first, Kyouya didn't know what he would do if the idiot suddenly wasn't there.

Bowing his head to avert his eyes, Kyouya sighed. There was no going back after this.

"I love you, Tamaki."

The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. Although, they had come out so softly he wasn't sure if Tamaki had even heard him at all.

"_Nani_?"

Kyouya raised his head. The confused, startled look on Tamaki's face was almost enough to make him laugh. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said it again.

"I love you."

* * *

**This was the result of Kyouya poking my brain incessantly until I finished. Also .. my pathetic need to be loved. Bah. Are you tired of cliffhangers yet?**


	9. How could I not?

**-dies- This chapter has almost surely killed me. Of course, it would have helped had my muses not decided to abandon me, opting instead to devour each other. -glares at Kyouya- It's _your_ fault, you know. If you could leave Tamaki's collarbone alone for more than three seconds, this would have been finished a long time ago! -grumbles- **

**Anyway .. yes, it gave me some trouble, but it's finally finished. And I'm .. relatively pleased with it. This is for Morgie, of course. Even though it deviated _just a little_ from my original plan. I hope you like it. And thank you for being patient with me.**

* * *

The silence between them was so thick Kyouya was finding it difficult to breathe. Or was it because of the look on Tamaki's face? The blond was staring at him with such astonishment painting his features he thought for a moment he might be able to pawn the whole thing off as a joke. The thought was fleeting, however, as Tamaki's eyes suddenly turned dark and his mouth became a firm, thin line. He shook his head slowly, his eyes glued to the floor.

"No," he murmured, chewing on a corner of his lip. Kyouya was perplexed.

"No .. what?"

"You don't get to say that," he shot back, his fists beginning to visibly tremble as he held them firmly at his sides.

"Tamaki, what the _hell_ --" Kyouya was cut off abruptly by the dangerous gleam in the other boy's eyes. He just stood there helplessly, feeling more lost and confused than he had Saturday morning.

"You don't get to throw that around like it doesn't mean anything," Tamaki said darkly, inching away from the cabinet at his back. "What gives you the right?"

"_Tamaki_ --"

The blond was on him before he could blink, let alone come up with a reply. His mouth crushed against Kyouya's, demanding and feverish as his fingers tangled themselves in the dark strands of his hair. It startled him so much that he nearly lost his balance and toppled over. He'd assumed he'd just earned himself another slap in the face. Instead, Tamaki's tongue was sliding languidly into his mouth, curling around his own in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

As Kyouya rested his hands on Tamaki's shoulders, he could feel the tension that lay just beneath the surface. The blond's muscles were drawn so tight he was shaking. But as wonderful as it was to taste him again -- _Mandarin tea. God, he tastes like oranges_, he registered somewhere in a part of his brain that was still capable of coherent thought processing -- Kyouya pushed him away.

"Tamaki," he said softly, placing both hands on either side of the blond's neck, "stop."

Tamaki shook his head, reaching for the knot in Kyouya's tie and loosening it just a little. "You aren't going to manipulate me like you do everyone else," he murmured, his voice low and strained as his slender fingers went to work on the buttons of the shorter boy's uniform shirt. Momentarily distracted, Kyouya could only watch as the garment was laid open and Tamaki's palms lay flat against his hips.

"I've never .. manipulated you." His train of thought faltered as blunt fingernails raked up his stomach and a suppressed groan slipped past his parted lips. _God, I love it when he does that._

"You're a fucking liar," Tamaki whispered harshly as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the other boy's ear. Kyouya hissed through tightly clenched teeth as his tongue teased the straining cords of muscle on the side of his neck. Instinctively, he tilted his head to allow the blond better access. He could feel Tamaki's smile against his skin, and another delicious shiver engulfed him completely.

Kyouya threaded his fingers through the soft strands at the nape of Tamaki's neck as the other boy's own wandering appendages skimmed his shoulders, sliding both uniform jacket and shirt down his arms.

"I never lied to you .." Kyouya whispered, biting a corner of his lip as Tamaki's mouth left a teasing kiss on his clavicle. An anguished groan failed him as he felt the teeth claiming his skin, pain and pleasure rippling through him in waves that settled in the pit of his stomach, making his cock ache.

"Don't," Tamaki growled as he marked that creamy skin again, they very same spot as before. He pressed a knee between Kyouya's thighs, purposely grinding against his arousal and grinning wickedly at the soft whimper he was awarded. "Don't you dare patronize me, Kyouya. It might make me think I mean more to you than I actually do. And we can't have that kind of mistake, can we?"

Kyouya's brows knitted together in a frown and he tried desperately to retain his dignity as Tamaki's tongue assaulted a perfectly round, peaked nipple. _Mistake? What the hell is he talking about?_

"Surely you don't think .." Kyouya faltered as he felt slender fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his trousers. The hand that wrapped itself around his cock was warm and soft, evilly adept at coaxing a carnal growl from behind tightly clamped lips. Kyouya sucked in a deep breath and tried again.

"Surely you don't think my caring for you is a mistake?"

The hand on his cock began moving slowly, torturously. Tamaki's eyes glittered with heat as he stared down into his friend's half-lidded gaze. "That's the thing," he whispered, brushing his lips softly against Kyouya's. His tongue traced a line across a slightly swollen bottom lip. "If you really did love me, it would mean you weren't so selfish."

"Selfish --!" The exclamation was cut off as Tamaki took Kyouya's lip between his teeth and bit down hard -- hard enough to draw blood, the dark-haired boy thought. Tamaki soothed the bite by sucking the abused flesh softly, and all thought of blood and pain flew right out the window, along with Kyouya's resolve.

"You only care about yourself, Kyou," Tamaki whispered against his mouth. The movement of his lips alone was enough to make Kyouya shudder violently. "What could possibly make you care about someone like me?"

That did it. Tamaki really was an idiot, wasn't he?

Kyouya gripped the blond's shoulders and pushed him back with as much force as he could muster, which wasn't enough to do any real damage. Tamaki stumbled, however, and Kyouya took that chance to seize him by the hips and turn him around, pressing his lower back into the counter.

"Stop being such an idiot, will you?" Kyouya growled, his lips mere centimeters away from Tamaki's. His hands slipped beneath the untucked hem of the blond's uniform shirt, caressing the impeccably soft, warm skin of his stomach. Tamaki fought him, attempting to push him away but Kyouya retained the contact with that silky flesh. It was the only thing keeping him from strangling the blond out of sheer aggravation.

_Well, not the_ only _thing .._

"Tamaki, listen to me," he said harshly, having caught the blond's wrists in one hand and was now holding them clasped behind his back. It seemed to be the only way to make him be still. _And,_ Kyouya couldn't help thinking devilishly, _hi_s_ back arches beautifully in this position._

"Have you ever known me to lie about something important?" Kyouya was slowly unbuttoning Tamaki's shirt as the question left his lips, his unwavering onyx stare trained on the blond's bright blue eyes. Tamaki opened his mouth, only to sigh as fingernails raked softly across his abdomen.

"No," came his soft reply as Kyouya ran his free hand up his chest, fingers curling around the side of his neck, thumb beneath his chin. Tamaki had no choice but to look at him, and that was the way he wanted it.

"Then why would I lie about this?"

His mouth came down hard on Tamaki's, tongue parting lips so deftly the breath momentarily left his lungs. His tongue curled around the blond's slowly, languidly, coaxing a small whimper from the back of his throat. Desperate to feel skin on skin, Kyouya released Tamaki's wrists and pushed both uniform shirt and jacket from his shoulders. His own shirt and jacket still hanging from his arms, and therefore interfering with this desperate need, were the next to go.

Arms entangled as they fed from each other's lips, tension building between them like an approaching thunderstorm. Kyouya ground his hips into Tamaki's roughly, desperate for contact. The blond groaned shamelessly into his open mouth, thrusting back with just as much fervor. It took everything Kyouya had not to rip the trousers from those slender hips and bury himself to the hilt.

He _needed_ it. _Needed_ to be buried inside him, _needed_ to be as close to him as he possibly could. His cock ached at the thought, straining painfully against the fabric of his boxers.

Without so much as a warning, Kyouya flipped the button of Tamaki's trousers open and thrust his hand inside. Wrapping his long, elegant fingers around that hot, pulsing organ, he began stroking relentlessly. Tamaki whimpered loudly, his fingernails digging into the flesh on the back of Kyouya's neck.

As quickly as it came, that hand was gone, opting instead to pull at the waistband of the blond's trousers teasingly. Tamaki pushed his hips away from the counter, allowing the dark-haired devil to slowly remove pants and underwear in one fluid motion.

"Get on the counter," Kyouya growled, nipping at Tamaki's collarbone. He was pleased when this action was carried out without so much as a sound. Spreading Tamaki's legs wide, he sucked on two of his fingers, coating them thickly with his own saliva. He then pressed those slick digits to the blond's entrance, sliding in easily and biting his lip at the raw moan that passed through Tamaki's lips and wrapped itself snugly around his cock.

This was going to have to do. They didn't have any lotion handy, and Kyouya was finding it hard to think of anything else save enveloping himself in that lush heat. With his free hand he flipped open his own slacks, freeing his throbbing erection as his fingers pumped slowly in and out. Tamaki was squirming, thrusting as best he could against the invading digits. Kyouya took a moment to appreciate the look on the blond's face; his eyes were shut tight, a corner of his lip caught between his teeth as it was so prone to do, a light flush painting his cheekbones.

Kyouya slowly removed his fingers, leaning forward to press a kiss to Tamaki's throat. "Are you ready for me?" he asked softly, his tongue tracing the delicate line of his clavicle. Tamaki merely whimpered, his arms circling the other boy's slender frame and pulling him closer.

Taking that as permission to proceed, Kyouya pressed the tip of his cock to Tamaki's entrance, slipping inside effortlessly. Their simultaneous groan filled the small room as his organ was enveloped fully by that slick heat. Momentarily incapable of movement, Kyouya rested his head on the blond's shoulder and relished this simple action. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed being held by the king of idiots, and was almost reluctant to admit it to himself.

He didn't move until Tamaki lifted his hips, thrusting against him. All at once he was pulling out only to slam back inside, gripping the blond's slender thighs for leverage. "_Kyouya_," Tamaki groaned, fingers tangling in the mass of his dark hair as Kyouya's fist wrapped around his own throbbing erection.

"Kyouya .."

It was almost too much. The sound of his voice, the feel of his body moving against him, the taste of his skin. His hips bucked and his hand pumped harder, desperate to make Tamaki come before he did. He hit that spot and Tamaki's back arched as he screamed, plunging his cock in deeper. Kyouya came hard, grunting as his teeth claimed soft, yielding flesh. He felt Tamaki tense as his cock pulsed, spilling warmth onto his hand and his own stomach.

They remained still, locked in each other's embrace as they fought to find their breath. Kyouya was the first to raise his head and press a kiss to the blond's jaw. "See, Tamaki," he murmured, fingers caressing the side of his face, curling in the blond silk of his hair. "You are the only one who can do this to me."

He stared into those deep blue eyes, his own dark gaze reflecting back at him.

"How could I not love you?"

* * *

**Erm. Yeah. It was supposed to be seme Tamaki. It started out that way .. but I think that was when Kyouya started poking my brain again. -.- Gomen. I tried. And faaaiiled .. -hangs head-**


End file.
